Memory of a Time
by sephirothflame
Summary: It's the end of the world. With Dean gone, Castiel has nothing left. Post 5.04. Dean/Castiel, Sam/Castiel, Lucifer/Castiel.


Title: A memory of a time  
Author: **sephirothflame**  
Fandom: _Supernatural_  
Rating: PG13  
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Castiel, Lucifer - Castiel/Dean Winchester, one-sided Castiel/Sam Winchester and Castiel/Lucifer  
Warning(s): Episode Tag, dub-con, angst, character death, dark!fic?  
Spoiler(s): 5.04, "_The End_"  
Prompt(s): I don't even remember.  
Word Count: 1,307  
Rants: I started writing this ages ago and only just now finished it. It's kind of dark compared to what I've been posting lately.  
Summary: It's the end of the world.  
Disclaimer: I don't own _Supernatural_.

* * *

There is a part of Castiel that will always love his brother, always love Lucifer, even though he is the Adversary and he is trying to end all that Castiel cares about. The love is hardwired into his Grace, a cruel taunt from an absent father but just because Castiel loves his brother does not mean he can't hate him just as passionately.

Dean tells him that's how families work, that the more you love someone the more you want to kill them. Dean doesn't hate Castiel for still loving Lucifer anymore. How can he when the devil is wearing Sam's skin? Castiel knows Dean still loves Sam. That's why the entire situation is so fucked up and it hurts so _Goddamn_ much. Castiel loves and misses Sam, too.

One of them should have been able to see this coming. One of them should have been able to stop it. Dean should have sucked up his manly pride and called his brother. Castiel should have stopped hiding from his fear, accepted his new found humanity, accepted Sam.

It doesn't matter now though, it's too late. Sam said 'yes' and Lucifer is wearing him to prom and both Dean and Castiel have nowhere to go.

They make it, for a while. Barely. Somewhere down the line Dean stopped solely blaming himself for Sam's actions and started to blame Castiel as well. Castiel takes the rage. He thinks it's his fault, too. They never blame Sam.

Somewhere between the rage and the loneliness and the miles of empty road, Dean takes Castiel. It's quick and dirty and it hurts and Castiel is scared but Dean's all he has so he lets him. They don't talk about it, don't think about it for months, but at some point it stops being taboo between them. Castiel needs orders and Dean needs someone to boss around. It's not perfect but it's all they have.

And Castiel hurts, hurts so much. He's not an angel anymore, hasn't been for a long time. His Grace has faded and left him with nothing but the constant beating of Jimmy's heart as a reminder. He has lost everything; His Grace, Jimmy, Sam, even Dean. He surrounds himself with women and booze and drugs because it makes him forget. Castiel wishes he could make Dean forget, wishes he could forget Dean. He can't though. He doesn't deserve to forget.

It doesn't hurt when Dean dies, not as much as it should. They haven't been friends for so long that Castiel has to remind himself that he's staring at Dean Winchester's corpse, the man he gave his virginity to. The man he _Fell from Heaven_ for. He's lost so much and he's so numb. Dean's death doesn't even register.

"Hello, little brother," Lucifer greets him. He both does and does not sound like Sam, just like he looks but does not look like Sam. There is Grace in everything about Lucifer, coating his voice and skin, permeating every inch of Sam's body and glowing brightly. Castiel can still feel it, but not as strongly as he once could.

"Lucifer," Castiel replies simply. He's too tired to be nervous or angry or upset. He's ready for the end of the world, has been for a while. It hurts so Goddamn much to see Sam's body after all these years – his stupid floppy hair, long and lean muscles, and a neck Castiel doesn't know if he wants to squeeze the life out of or mark with his teeth – but he quashes the feelings of guilt he didn't know he could still feel.

"You look tired," Lucifer says, and he touches Castiel. His hand warm and heavy where it rests on Castiel's cheek and his smile is sweet and acidic. Castiel knows better than to trust it, but he doesn't care. "You've Fallen so far, little Castiel. Let your big brother take care of you. You deserve better than this."

Castiel doesn't deserve anything but he doesn't bother to tell Lucifer that. He's killed so many of his brothers and so many of the humans he was sworn to protect. He's done things he's not proud of but he'd do them again in a heartbeat if it means staying alive. He thinks he should be ashamed of who he is, but he doesn't have it in him to care.

Something of his thoughts must show on his face, because Lucifer frowns. He cups Castiel's face in both hands and kisses his messy dark hair, sighing heavily. "Oh, Castiel."

"Don't," Castiel whispers. "Just don't." He doesn't want to think about what Lucifer could possibly expect from him. He doesn't want to imagine the older angel stretched above him, inside him, skin slick with sweat and oozing Grace but it's all he can think of at the touch of Sam's skin. Castiel knows the sight of the body will only remind him further of Sam, the one he failed first and the most, and he doesn't think he can do that. He's been burned before, he doesn't want to do it again.

"You should sleep now, Castiel," Lucifer tells him.

Castiel can feel his brother's lips moving against his scalp and he wants to take the offer for what it's worth. If anyone can offer him honest-to-God _sleep_, it's Lucifer. His brother is the only one who can protect Castiel, to guarantee he will make it through the night. It's a tempting offer, but with Dean dead, his purpose has been served. He's done what he was supposed to do.

Lucifer lets go of Castiel to look into his eyes, narrowing Sam's hazel eyes as he stares into the hazy depth of Castiel's own blue ones. Castiel doubts he'll see much. Between the absinthe and the amphetamines, Castiel doesn't have much room in his brain for thinking now. He's all base instincts and feelings he's too far gone to act upon. Castiel just stares, unblinking. If it's a challenge, he'll accept it. If it's not, well, Castiel doesn't even care.

Whatever Lucifer sees though, makes him sigh. His hands drop from Castiel's face to his neck, curling around his throat delicately. They tighten slightly, just enough to sting but not enough to kill him. Castiel wishes he would and he wishes his brother would stop touching him. He's conflicted. Lucifer can see that, Castiel knows. That's why they're doing this, now.

"It's all over," Castiel says simply, bringing his hands up to curl around Lucifer's – Sam's – wrists. They're warm, burning, but all Castiel feels is his brother's Grace. If he closed his eyes, he bets he could almost feel like he was home again. "Everything. You've won. There is nothing left to be done."

"Maybe," Lucifer replies simply. "No one can stop me." It's a fact, nothing taunting or hurtful about it. Just a simple fact. It still makes Castiel want to cry.

"What will you do now?" Castiel asks because he has to know. This was always the grand scheme of things. Heaven or Hell would win and Paradise or Eternal Damnation would take over. No one knew what would happen after that, what would happen if Hell won. What was Lucifer to do now that everything, everyone was his?

"Whatever I want," Lucifer says simply. It's not the answer Castiel was hoping for, but it was more than he ever expected to get. "You should really let me take care of you, Castiel. You are all I have left, little brother. You never have to hurt again."

"Please," Castiel says. He doesn't know what he's asking for, doesn't know what on Earth he could possibly still want. He knows he doesn't deserve anything.

Lucifer must know, must _feel_ something because he simply nods his head.

Breath trembling, Castiel closes his eyes. Whatever is going to happen now, he's ready for it.


End file.
